


Eau de Parfum

by Editor7



Category: The Beatles
Genre: F/M, M/M, Perfume, needed something less embarrassing after that last work, there's probably a typo in here somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editor7/pseuds/Editor7
Summary: Paul notices that John is smelling especially nice today...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how I came up with this one...oh,well. And, fun fact! Madame Dubreuil is my old French teacher's name! I'm sure none of you could go on without that information 
> 
> Anyway, read on!

Sniff.

Sniff.

Sniff.

Paul kept sniffing.

This brought John's idle plucking of his guitar to a halt. It was hard to work out which chords should go where with that extra bit of noise every few seconds.

"Paul," he spoke up. "Trying to concentrate here."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Paul, not even looking up from the lyrics he'd written.  
He was back to the sniffing a minute later.

This concerned John. "You're not sick again, are you?"

"No, I don't think so. It's just, well...I couldn't help but notice you smellin' like..."

John raised an eyebrow. "Like a lady?"

"If you wanna phrase it that way."

"Ah, it was Cynthia. She was playing around too much last night."

Paul reddened. "I see."

"...no, no, not like that!" John laughed, shaking his head.

"O-Oh."

"Mind in the gutter again, eh? No, what happened was she covered me in some of that fancy French stuff she had laying about the house. She just said 'This perfume is sooo pleasant, you should wear some too!', and I got soaked right through to the skin. Not even a shower washed it out. So, there I was, smelling like a flower the whole time we were out together."

"Well, I like it!" Paul said encouragingly.

"You would, you soft man! Paulyster McCottony is what they should call you. I know any girl you met wearing this stuff would have you all over her."

"No, I meant...on you. I like it on you. It suits you!"

John narrowed his eyes at Paul. "In what regard?"

He froze as the bassist moved in closer for a good whiff.

"I don't know, really. It's just fitting for someone like you," Paul tried to explain. "I can't pinpoint the reason I love it so much, but I do...and you were right about one thing; I'd probably be inclined toward anyone wearing perfume like that. Not necessarily a girl, though."

John raised his eyebrows. "No joke?"

"Yeah, I think I would...just don't go telling Brian that, he's been eyeing me enough as of late. Heh!"

"Sure..."

The remainder of the songwriting time went on as usual. But Paul was sitting slightly closer to John than he normally did...if that was possible.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night, after a busy day, John decided to call his wife. She let the phone ring a couple times before picking up.

"Mrs. Lennon speaking."

John grinned at her introduction. "Hello, Mrs. Lennon. Is Cyn there?"

"Oh, it's John!" she said excitedly. "Julian, come say 'hi' to your dad! Quick, quick...!"

"Hiii," came Julian's drowsy voice.

John waved at him through the phone before realizing how little sense that made. "Hi, Julian! Have you been behaving yourself?"

"Yeah..."

"He's very sleepy," giggled Cynthia. "So, what's going on over there?"

"Lots and lots of nothing. I'm trapped on this floor of the hotel, I'm all out of cigarettes, and they won't let me leave to buy more. But anyway, sorry for calling so late, I just had to ask you something."

"And that something is...?"

"What's the name of that one perfume you doused me with yesterday?"

"That perfume? Why, it's Madame Dubreuil brand; that's D-u-b-r-e-u-i-l. The lily scent."

"And you're sure about that?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Are you sure you're sure?"

"Yes, I am."

"A hundred percent sure?"

"Yes!"

"A thousand percent sure?"

"John! I'm quadruple sure, I'm sure squared! A kajillion, bamillion percent SURE!"

John stifled a laugh. "Okay, I got it. Thanks, Cyn."

"Now, wait a tick, why do you ask?"

"Because I wanted to know, dear, that's why," John replied in a snooty voice. 

He could practically hear Cynthia rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"Fine," he huffed. He paused to take a cautious glance down the empty hallway. "I asked because of Paul."

"Paul?"

"Yeah, he's really into the stuff, so I decided to..."

"Buy him some as a gift?"

"...sure."

"Oh, but I should warn you, Madame Dubreuil is very high-end, very expensive."

"That right? Well, it'll be worth it. For Paul."

"Aw, that's sweet. I always knew he was a perfume fellow! He's just got that way about him, you know? Like he's--ah," Cynthia lowered her voice to a whisper. "Julian is asleep now, so I better go...call again soon. Earlier in the day if you can, time zones and all that."

"I'll be sure to."

"A jillion percent sure?"

"I knew I'd rub off on you," John smirked to himself. "Buh-bye, love."

"G'bye, love."

Click.


End file.
